


Erase My Regrets

by aridinosnore



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Religious Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 10:21:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10695033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aridinosnore/pseuds/aridinosnore
Summary: veronica sawyer gets a letter from her future self on her first day of senior year. twenty-seven year old veronica pleads for seventeen year old veronica to erase her regrets. her biggest regret includes jason dean. sexual content may occur in future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i will try to update as often as i can! this is based off of the manga orange, if you haven't read it, i believe you'll understand by reading. i hope you enjoy and feedback is welcomed!

Veronica Sawyer was never one to receive letters. They had phones now— well they were merely attached the walls or used in houses but why write letters when a new source of communication was right there? The 17-year-old asked herself this as she looked at the envelope her mother had given her, “It’s for you,” she had told Veronica. She flipped over the envelope and her dark hues blinked in confusion as she read the words on the front of the white paper. ‘From Veronica Sawyer’ was written down in her very own handwriting.

“This has to be a prank,” Veronica scoffed to herself as she stuffed the envelope into her backpack. It had to be a joke, hell, Veronica could forge handwriting so that means anybody else could right? It still irked her and protruded her thoughts, what was the letter about? She didn’t remember writing a letter to herself, who does that? The teenager decided to put it aside for now, today was the first day of senior year. She wasn’t exactly excited about it— it’s high school why would she be enthusiastic? Veronica was nothing special in the school’s caste system and hung out with her best friend, Martha. She couldn’t help but long for the feeling of popularity and attention. The exact feelings the Heathers felt. Heather Chandler, the one who always wore her signature crimson red and was in all honesty, a mythic bitch. Heather Duke, green for her envy of Heather Chandler’s power. Then Heather McNamara, yellow for possibly the nicest out of the three. She still did shitty things but seemed to be the Heather that at least held sympathy.

Veronica’s envious thoughts were interrupted when the bell rang to signal first period was starting. Ten minutes had passed and it seemed that their teacher wasn’t showing up any time soon. Many students cheered and ‘whooped’ as they began to move around to socialize due to the lack of supervision. Veronica thought it was a reasonable time to observe the mail she had gotten, she assumed it was a letter of some sort. Her hands pulled out the envelope and she opened it up almost eagerly with curiosity.

‘ _Hello myself from ten years ago, how are you?_ ’, was the first sentence that caught Veronica’s attention. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she read on. Ten years ago? Was this letter from herself ten years in the future?

“Oh my god,” Veronica said under her breath.

‘ _You must be very confused, I know. But please, listen to this letter. Ten years in the future, I have many regrets that I would like to erase. It starts with the first day of senior year. There is a page for each day. I will list events that happened that day and what I want you to do that I regret not doing/doing. You will understand soon._ ’ Veronica’s eyes glanced at the bullet points listed below.

  * _It’s September 1st, 1989. First day of senior year._
  * _I wore a floral-like dress, a denim jacket, my flats, and a scarf that I stuffed into my backpack._



Veronica looked down at her outfit and she nearly gasped out loud, the letter was right. It was exactly what she was wearing.

  * _Today is the day I become part of the Heathers._
  * _I’m now seen as ‘”the blue one”, we became acquainted after saving their asses from Ms. Fleming in the bathroom._



Veronica snorted to herself, “Yeah right. They would never want good ol’ Roni in their little clique off theirs.” She put the letter away into her backpack once again as the teacher walked in hastily.

The teenager didn’t glance at the first task she was asked to do in the letter;

 

  * __‘ **I always wondered how things would’ve ended if I had stayed in the bathroom stall, if I had not forged that hall pass, if I had not gone to the bathroom at all. Maybe my regrets would not be as painful. Do not go to the bathroom during third period.** ’__



 

Veronica’s eyes never read that request until after school. The teenager had completely forgotten about the letter that was sent to herself that morning and strode over to the school’s bathroom during third period. It was the class that seemed to bore her the most, mathematics wasn’t in her area exactly. She pushed open the door to a bathroom stall and feminine voices began to ring out as the door of the bathroom opened up. Veronica’s eyes widened as she realized the voices were coming from the Heathers who had visited the bathroom to pamper themselves.

“Grow up Heather, bulimia’s so ‘87,” Heather Chandler scoffed to the female who had rushed into a stall beside Veronica, vomiting horribly. Veronica’s face scrunched in disgust as Heather Duke threw up, the sound echoing throughout the bathroom. Heather McNamara’s voice could be heard but it was in a soft and genuine tone, much different from Chandler’s tone.

After a few more moments of Duke throwing up, Ms. Fleming and Veronica’s face brightened as she heard this, this was possibly her chance to communicate with the powerhouses of Westerburg. She hastily scribbled a ‘hall pass’, the handwriting matching the yearbook teacher’s exactly. Veronica cleared her throat awkwardly as the Heathers and Ms. Fleming turned to face the brunette with surprise. They had not noticed her.

“Uhm, Ms. Fleming! All four of us are out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee,” Veronica trailed off as Ms. Fleming examined the piece of paper, glancing at Veronica suspiciously. Heather Chandler eyed her up and down with an expression that Veronica could read as shock or confusion.

“I see you’re all listed… hurry up and get where you’re going.” Ms. Fleming gestured with her hands as she clicked her tongue and stepped out of the bathroom. The note Veronica had forged was instantly snatched from her hands by Chandler who looked at the hall pass, then Veronica, then back. Her dark green eyes settled on Veronica as she held the note in her hand.

“This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?” Heather demanded as McNamara stood behind her almost timidly, Duke soon came beside the two teenage girls.

“Uhm— Veronica Sawyer. I crave a boon.”

That was how it all started.

The Heathers gave Veronica the ultimate makeover. She couldn’t help but feel like a Barbie doll who was being poked and penetrated by little girl’s  hands. Veronica reminded herself that they were making her _beautiful_ . She would finally be viewed as one of them. Top of the school, powerful, _popular_ , somebody who was worth everybody’s eyes. Veronica felt absolutely amazing as she walked out to the school’s halls beside the Heathers, clad in a blue blazer along with a very short skirt. Her hands kept fidgeting with the article of clothing for the length made the teenager uncomfortable at the slightest. Although, boys seemed to be interested. It made Veronica’s confidence spark as people seemed to cheer for her but a wave of guilt rushed over the brunette whenever she caught a glance of Martha in the corner. Whenever their eyes met, Martha gave Veronica a sweet and kind smile. Veronica always returned it.

When Veronica had arrived at her humble abode later that day, a big grin was plastered on her porcelain face. Her mother was glad to see Veronica in such an enthusiastic mood yet her father eyed her short skirt suspiciously.

“Veronica, where’d you get that?” He had asked which lead to Veronica rolling her dark hues that were very much similar to her father’s.

“Relax dad, I made new friends. This is the new thing!” Veronica exclaimed with a giggle. Her father’s eyebrows shot up as the teenager bounced up the stairs to her room.

“Honey, she never giggles. Hell— I’ve only heard her giggle when she was a baby,” her father told his wife with a worried expression.

“She’s a girl, Robert. Let her be,” Veronica’s mother said with a smile as she placed her hand on Veronica’s father’s shoulder. He was always protective over his little girl.

Veronica sighed as she overheard this reaction but the grin never left her face. It was a beautiful day. It truly was. Her hands rummaged through her bookbag and they grabbed ahold of the envelope that was now creased and folded at the edges. She threw off her blazer and delicately placed it on the edge of her bed. Veronica pulled out the multiple papers from the white envelope and she furrowed her dark brows as she read the last bit of the letter that had today’s date on it. Veronica hadn’t seen that exact part before shoving it into her bag. She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought to herself, this was what happened to herself ten years in the future, right? If she had asked Veronica not to go to the bathroom; it meant she had become a Heather. Veronica was conflicted about whether she should listen to the words inked on the paper, it could’ve been some stupid practical joke. Her eyes flicked back to the bullet points listed and she cursed mentally, it couldn’t have been a prank if the events listed actually occurred.

  * _“Today is the day I become part of the Heathers.”_
  * _“I’m now seen as ‘”the blue one”, we became acquainted after saving their asses from Ms. Fleming in the bathroom.”_



That had all happened at school, Veronica realized. She was now apart of the Heather’s and Chandler had ‘assigned’ her the color blue. It didn’t make sense and simply wasn’t logical. How would herself ten years from now send a letter to the past? Veronica groaned and flopped onto the bed, laying an arm across her face in distress. Maybe it was best to follow the letter’s commands and requests. She remembered the whole purpose for the goddamn thing. It was to erase her future self’s regrets.

“What will I regret?” Veronica said under her breath and she sat up hastily, picking up the rest of the paper. There were at least ten sheets of the white material, sweet Jesus. What if she looked ahead…? Her fingers skimmed the edges of the paper cautiously, would it affect anything? “Fuck it,” she cursed out and read the date in the left hand corner on the next paper. Veronica raised an eyebrow in confusion, it had skipped 3 weeks.

Shit, had she lost some of the letters? Three weeks worth of warnings and requests from her future self? Veronica picked up the inked paper and her eyes skimmed the words effortlessly.

_You’re probably freaking out over how it suddenly skipped three weeks ahead. This was intended, Veronica. Nothing was lost. I promise._

Veronica sighed in relief as she continued to glance at sentences, barely getting the context from skipping over paragraphs and bullet points. Although, one sentence stood out to her.

 

  * __Today is the day Jason Dean walked into my life.__



 

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> twenty seven year old veronica, alive and... not so well. seventeen year old veronica tries to erase her first regret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoop! second chapter in and i have gotten a lot of wonderful feedback/comments. im excited to continue on with this story and i promise i'll try to update as much as i can! since its the weekend, i'll be having my free time to work on this story but over the week i probably won't especially with school and such. next chapter will be the seven eleven scene, big fun, and possibly dead girl walking. enjoy!

Jason Dean. Who was he? Veronica stared at the name written on the piece of paper that seemed the be wrinkled on the edges. She could’ve sworn there were tear marks. There were dots scattered around the paper where the color of the paper had faded from the tears hitting the paper. What was so special about this Jason Dean?

  


_The young woman sat at her desk, her chocolate hues staring out the window and blinding herself with the bright sunlight shining through. It was a beautiful day and Martha invited her over to go out and shop, possibly head over to the park and grab some lunch. She agreed to do so._

  


_Veronica had turned down Harvard, Duke, and even Brown. She felt that it was best to go to a community college somewhere close to Sherwood. After everything she’d been through and done, she felt that maybe she didn’t deserve to go to a superior university. Her parents still didn't know the shit she pulled, they only believed that Veronica was grieving for the loss of her "best friend", Heather Chandler. They were disappointed when they found out Veronica turned down the prestigious colleges but tried their best to be glad for their daughter either way._

  


_What she had done were_ accidents _for fucks sake. She didn’t mean to give the cup to her best friend yet worst enemy, she didn’t know they were real bullets, she didn’t want to watch_ him _blow up. Veronica curled up at night in her bed even ten years later from those accidents, shrinking in on herself and cursing her thoughts. If all that bullshit hadn’t happened, would she be happy?_

  


_Oh Martha. Veronica to this day still felt guilty for her wrongdoings towards Martha, her best friend since diapers. How could she do something like that? Veronica had craved to be like the Heathers yet to only kill the supreme leader. Although, she had forgiven Heather McNamara. The sweetheart stuck with Veronica during her rough times and Martha had soon come to love the Heather. They seemed to be the best of friends and Veronica, Heather, and Martha always tuned into the Princess Bride on Friday nights. Heather was busy today and Veronica couldn’t blame her. They were adults now. They grew up. Veronica’s regrets grew with her._

  


_Her eyes looked down to the dozens of papers scattered on her desk. She tried her best to listen to her counselor that she visited twice a week who still believed that Veronica was merely affected by the ‘suicides’ and death of her boyfriend. She had stuck with Veronica ever since she was 20. Veronica's past therapists and counselors had instantly quit the job once they heard her story. Maybe she was possibly a "more difficult" patient._

  


_“You like to write poems right? Maybe writing down your thoughts and feelings will help.” Veronica’s counselor had told her. She must’ve thought it was silly how Veronica needed help even after ten years._ Ten years. _She tried to write poems but always turned to her diary. The diary entries were futile considering Veronica didn't do much during her adult life. Writing poems reminded her too much of the ‘baudelaire-quoting-bad-ass’._

 

_Instead, Veronica picked up her pen and slid one of the pieces of paper closer. She sighed and wrote the first few letters that she had written in weeks._

 

**_“September 1st, 1989”_ **

  
  


The past three weeks were amazing for Veronica. The Heathers took her shopping but many snarky comments about Veronica’s wardrobe were thrown around. They had came over to Veronica’s house and threw out anything that “looked like an 80 year old woman’s clothing”, Heather Chandler’s words. Now her drawers and closet were filled with short skirts, revealing dresses, blouses, and blazers. At least they were some shade of blue.

 

She had nearly forgotten about the letter she was sent on the first day of school. It was when she was digging through her desk’s drawers and the crumpled envelope caught her eye. Veronica pulled out the first paper in the envelope and read the date.

 

**_“September 22nd, 1989”_ **

 

“Oh yeah, it skipped the past three weeks,” Veronica said to herself as she read on. What would happen today? The sense of familiarity washed over Veronica as she read the first bullet point.

 

 

  * __Today is the day Jason Dean walked into my life.__



 

 

Veronica bit her lip and glanced at the other bullet points. He must be important if she had to point the fact out in her letter.

 

 

  * __The Heathers ask you to forge a note from Ram Sweeney. It’s for Martha.__


  * _I let them give the note to Martha out of pressure. I was against the idea but Duke snatched it out of my hands._



 

 

She furrowed her eyebrows. Shit, she would forge a note in Ran’s handwriting? Martha has been crushing on the dickhead ever since kindergarten. Martha and Veronica weren’t exactly the closest of friends anymore due to Veronica joining the Heathers but she wouldn’t want to hurt Martha. It would crush her if she found out it wasn’t from Ram himself.

  


 

  * **__I want you to instantly tell Martha that it isn’t from Ram politely. If she feels bad about it, be there for her. One of my biggest regrets is hurting her, Veronica. Please. It will cause a lot less damage than what happened if I hadn’t told her.__**



 

 

The thing with these letters that bugged Veronica was the longing and curiosity of what would happen if she didn’t follow these requests. Her life probably would have gone the way it was supposed to. “No, you have to erase your future selves regrets,” Veronica reminded herself as she clutched the letter in her hands.

 

 

  * __You’ll meet Jason Dean after this happens. You’ll also be going to Ram Sweeney’s homecoming party with the Heathers. I don’t regret going. Go and have fun.__


  * _You’re no longer a virgin._



 

 

Her eyes widened at the last bullet point. Holy shit, Veronica had never really thought of sex. Well, she had. Heather Chandler told her to consider it now that she was apart of the group that most horny high schoolers looked up to and fantasized about. Hell, her mother even suggested to have Veronica on the pill. She reluctantly allowed it just in case. The letter didn’t specify who she’d lose her v-card to, great.  


It was a bit exciting to know, if she had to be honest. To be a part of the Heathers you should have fun and go wild at parties right? Hitting third base just might be the best thing she’ll ever experience. And it was.

  
  


At lunch, Heather Chandler requested— no, demanded Veronica to forge a note to Martha in Ram’s handwriting. Veronica went along with this, the note said nothing about not forging the note. She was told to talk to Martha after giving the note. Veronica let things play out, instinctively getting defensive and very much intimidated as Heather Chandler threatened her.

 

“I let you into this candy store, you can’t just run out with all the goods in your hand can you?” Heather had asked her with a scoff and death glare. All that was set on Veronica’s mind was to follow the letters words.

 

The Heathers were preoccupied with Kurt and Ram. Veronica saw this as her chance to tell Martha about the stupid letter and how it was forged. Martha was a forgiving person, even present day Veronica knew this. In third grade, Veronica had broken one of Martha’s favorite unicorn toys which had Martha cry for hours. After all the tears, Martha still forgave Veronica. Roni could only hope it was the same case in senior year. She was little ways down the hall until a voice spoke to her.

 

“Why’d you bow down to those swatch dogs and diet coke heads? They’ll crush that poor girl,” an almost bored tone was evident in the person’s voice. Veronica stopped reluctantly as she watched Martha enthusiastically bounce down the hall. She turned her head and her eyes caught the dark brown hues of a teenage boy leaning against the wall.

 

She blinked and cleared her throat, glancing back at Martha who was now merely a figure in the distance and back to the male. “That’s what I’m trying to fix right now,” Veronica huffed out as she crossed her arms.

 

“Ah, so you have a soul. Just gotta work on keeping it pure,” he said with a smug smirk as he pushed himself off the wall. Now standing up straight, Veronica noticed the great height difference between them. She was merely five foot three, he had to be at least six feet. “‘We are all born marked for evil,’” the man said as he ‘booped’ Veronica’s nose softly. He began to walk away from the teenage girl until Veronica spoke, clearly smitten.

 

“Excuse me— don’t just quote Baudelaire then walk away. I uh… didn’t catch your name,” Veronica said as she cracked a small smile towards the male.

 

“I didn’t throw it,” he returned the smile but his seemed to have the ‘bad boy smugness’ behind it. Veronica’s mouth went agape as she blushed to herself, the teenage boy now walking away from her as she was clearly swooning over him.

 

“Oh shit, Martha!” Veronica reminded herself and she scurried down the hall to find the girl clad in the familiar pink unicorn sweater. She finally spotted Martha sitting outside of the school on the bench, the letter in her hands and a huge grin plastered on her face. It almost made Veronica stop in her tracks and debate with herself if this was what she should truly do. Martha was happy. Then she remembered what the letter had said, it was better than what Martha would experience if Veronica hadn’t done anything. Veronica walked over to the teenage girl on the bench, a smile formed by the curl of her lips.

 

“Hey Martha,” she said softly as she sat beside her on the bench. Martha turned her head away from the piece of paper and an expression of giddiness was clear on her features.

 

“Oh hi Veronica. You truly are looking beautiful these days,” she commented and gestured to Veronica’s outfit. Veronica gave her a nod and laughed lightly.

 

“Still the same me, I promise. Uhm, could we talk?” Veronica asked timidly as she scratched the back of her ear. She wondered how to put her words together and most definitely how Martha would react.

 

“Sure, what about?”

 

“Ah, about that.” She gestured towards the paper in Martha’s hands. Veronica took a deep breath and delicately took Martha’s hand. “That note… wasn’t written by Ram. I forged it. The Heathers wanted me to but I didn’t want to give it to you. They had me writing it before they told me it was for you. I’m sorry, Martha. It’s better than going to the party when you weren’t really invited right?” Veronica flinched at her own words. They had came out politely and softly but it still had a sense of rudeness. She watched as Martha’s face fell and she looked down at the letter, her eyes scanning the handwriting.

 

“Oh. So… Ram didn’t write this? He doesn’t think about me?” Martha asked in a disappointed tone. Veronica instantly felt sorry for the emotions her words had inflicted. She straightened up and quickly shook her head.

 

“No no, Martha. He could still have the same feelings for you. It’s just that this letter— it wasn’t true. Please, I’m warning you. Don’t go to the homecoming party. I do not want them to hurt you, Martha.” Veronica pleaded and Martha sighed, a sad smile then formed on her face.

 

“Okay, I won’t,” she said with a small nod of her head. Veronica hugged her but it didn’t feel like the ones they shared before. This one seemed more distant.

 

“I promise I won’t miss out on next week’s movie night. I’ll find some way to come over,” Veronica reassured her friend but she couldn’t promise anything when it came to friends especially now that she was with the Heathers.

 

Martha was about to speak until the sounds of students yelling and cheering rang out from inside the school. It was that loud that you could hear from the courtyard outside of school. Martha and Veronica both looked over at the doors of their high school. They glanced at each other and nodded, both beginning to run over to the doors of the school and they pushed them open to find the teenage boy Veronica was talking to being harassed by Kurt and Ram.

 

Veronica pushed through the crowd and Martha stood by in the back of the crowd, not wanting to get involved. Although, she was worried about Ram even if he was a dickhead to most people. Martha saw the good in him.

 

Veronica somehow got through the crowd and was now in the front. She didn’t want to interfere but she knew it could get ugly with Kurt and Ram. Suddenly, the male in the big, old, black trench coat smacked Ram in the face with the dense book her had been reading. The ‘ooh’ed as this happened and the Heathers watched with wide eyes and mouths open agape as their regular boy toys began getting their ass kicked. As Veronica watched the Baudelaire-quoting-bad-ass teach the two jocks a lesson, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of respect and admiration. Her eyes couldn’t leave the man as he punched Ram straight in the face. Everybody seemed to be cheering and whooping but all Veronica could do was stare dumbfoundedly with a huge grin on her face. The brunette asked herself, would this boy fight for her? He seemed to capture her heart and sights by punching some jackass in the face which did not happen often. Veronica and the crowd of students watched as Ram felt to the floor in defeat and Kurt tried to take a swing at the trench coat kid. He failed miserably.

 

She watched in astonishment as the boy took Kurt’s head in his hands and bashed their heads together, no sign of pain on his face whatsoever but with Kurt it was a different story. Teachers and staff had come out to the scene and were trying to push through the crowd of teenagers to see what was going on. By the time the principal had gotten to the front, Kurt was on the floor, clearly in pain. “Holy shit!” The students had yelled out as the victorious winner stood up, running a hand through his hair. Veronica’s eyes followed him and watched as he was dragged away from the crowd. The principal did not seem happy at all.

  
Was this Jason Dean?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> where veronica runs her mouth off too quickly, yet her suspicions are correct. if only that moment in the desolate seven eleven could've lasted longer, maybe she would've gotten somewhere.
> 
>  
> 
> not so much big fun for veronica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wHOO FINALLY CHAPTER THREE!! i'm in the works of writing chapter four right now and i promise i will get to dead girl walking in the next chapter. i'm a tad bit excited to write that part. anyway, thank you so much for all the lovely feedback given in the comments! it really motivates me to write chapters and makes my day. here's chapter three, enjoy!

“Hurry up and haul your ass, Veronica! If we don’t leave in ten minutes, it won’t be considered ‘fashionably late’!” Heather Chandler’s voice shrieked out as her blonde curls whipped viciously as she stuck her head out of the red Porsche. Veronica rolled her dark eyes as she tried her best not to slam the door of the car in fear that Heather would leave without her.

 

Chandler and Veronica were merely a few minutes late for Ram’s party. The blonde had told Veronica that it wouldn’t be a party without the company of corn nuts. The seventeen year old reluctantly pushed open the convenience store to search for the familiar packaging Chandler always seemed to have in her purse. She was so obsessed with corn nuts that it was terrifying. Before Veronica could step into the 7-11 fully, she turned her head and yelled out to the girl who was reapplying her makeup in the car.

 

“BQ or plain?” Veronica asked and Heather looked up from her hand-held mirror with a glare, her deep green eyes holding a fierceness that truly intimidated the brunette.

 

“BQ!” She hissed out and her eyes turned themselves back to the small mirror she held in her left hand. The other hand holding a mascara wand. Veronica shook her head with a short huff of breath, finally stepping into the 7-11. Her dark eyes caught sight of the plastic packaging that held the sweet yet salty corn nuts and she instantly strode over, obviously not wanting to get scolded by the demon queen, Veronica wanted to hurry her ass up.

 

“You want a slushie with that?” The baritone seemed to trigger Veronica’s mind, she whipped her head harshly behind her to see who had spoke. She had thought the store was desolate at this hour. The cashier even seemed to be off duty. The voice was vaguely familiar and she instantly realized who the male was. It was Mr. No Name Kid.

 

An expression of shock must’ve dawned against her face because a smirk was formed by the curl of his lips. “Oh uhm, maybe a Big Gulp?” She asked with a playful tone to her voice, a smile creeping on her own lips. He seemed almost taken aback as the words escaped Veronica lips.

 

“A slurpee is the signature dish of the house. It’s like ordering a salad from Micky D’s. Did you say cherry or lime?” He turned towards the machine that stored the artificially colored icy drinks and his trench coat seemed to flap in the air as he did so.

 

“I said Big Gulp, Jason Dean.” Her eyes widened as the name came out of her throat. She hadn’t been thinking obviously too focused on how smitten she was because of trench coat kid. Veronica smacked herself mentally, god what if he wasn’t even who she thought he was? The male stopped short from pouring the drink into an empty cup he had picked up. His dark eyes looked at her with a glint of curiosity and he was now the one with a shocked expression. His lips were parted slightly and he looked at her with a small cock of his eyebrow. Veronica feared he’d be creeped out about how this girl suddenly knew his name, he hadn’t ever spoken about his name and Veronica merely met him by passing each other shortly in the school’s hall.

 

Instead, a smirk played on his chapped lips. “Do we have a stalker here?” He asked teasingly, his free hand extending to shake Veronica’s hand. “Well, you already know my name. Greetings and salutations, you can call me J.D., I was going to keep up the suspense though which was a bit disappointing,” J.D. chuckled and Veronica took his hand, clearly at the point of swooning.

 

“Sorry, I guess I just saw your name somewhere and uh… yeah.” She stopped herself before saying something completely stupid which would then lead to awkward tension. “Veronica— Veronica Sawyer,” she stammered out as her hand came up to scratch the back of her ear whilst clearing her throat. Veronica couldn’t help but think if this was what happened before, as in herself from ten years now. She wondered if this altered anything in the timeline considering she had found his name from the letter. It was honestly a wild guess, if he wasn’t Jason Dean it would’ve been much more awkward. Veronica suddenly didn’t want to leave the 7-11, in fact she wanted time to stop and it would just be them in the moment, talking to each other about whatever the hell would come up, yet she knew it wasn’t possible.

 

“Veronica hm?” J.D. let the name roll off of his tongue and Veronica reverted her eyes, instead resting on the cup in his hands.

 

“I’ll try blue raspberry,” she said with a grin beginning to form on her porcelain face. Veronica stepped forward and let herself stand beside the male, he returned the grin with a smug smile.

 

“Whatever you say,” he said with a shrug and began to fill the cup with the blue substance, the machine making a rumbling noise as he pulled on the lever and let the drink pour into the cup. J.D. stuck the straw in with a satisfied hum, “These things are amazing you know?”

 

Veronica cocked an eyebrow in curiosity, he seemed very dedicated to the cold drink, she noticed that there were two more cups on the counter most likely consumed by himself. “Why is that?” She asked as her hand took the cup, sipping gladly on the straw and shivering at the sudden rush of cold.

 

“Well, they freeze your brain. Something that is very helpful, Ronnie,” he leaned himself against the counter and an amused expression rose to his freckled face as he spotted the blush that began to grow against Veronica’s pale skin. J.D. chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. Veronica could clearly see his stained tongue as he opened his mouth to let a rumble escape from his throat, the sound of his laugh nearly music to her ears. A shrill shriek interrupted the pleasant noise and the chime indicating somebody had stepped foot into the 7-11. Before Veronica could even ask what J.D. had meant by “helpful”, her wrist was tightly grasped by Heather’s slender hands. Her dark eyes looked up to meet with the blonde’s deep green eyes.

 

“Veronica!” The demon queen hissed out with a fierce glare, barely sparing a glance towards J.D., “Say bye bye to Red Dawn here and let’s motor!” Veronica nodded harshly at Heather’s words instantly, her hand clutching the pack of corn nuts in her left hand while her right held the slurpee. The chill of the drink seemed to have numbed in her hand.

 

“Uh yeah, sorry,” she muttered out and mouthed an apologetic farewell to J.D. who gave her a small wave of his hand, the smirk plastered on her face and he simply sipped on the straw of the drink, probably letting himself get lost in a brain freeze. Veronica could only slurp on her own drink and stare out the window the whole drive to the party. Jason Dean, how was he in her future self’s life? Maybe they actually hit it off… maybe they get married. Veronica scoffed to herself and shook her head which made Heather glance at her, her eyebrows drawn together. Jason Dean, the boy who loved slurpees and wore a big old trench coat all the time.

  
  
  


Heather and Veronica had arrived at Ram’s house, they met with the booming yet muffled sounds of music playing in the house. Many cars were lined up in parking spots yet the two jocks had “reserved” a spot for Heather’s car in the driveway. As Heather parked the car, the two were instantly met with yellow and green. “Thank god, you two are here now!” Heather McNamara exclaimed as she gave Veronica’s shoulders a tight, friendly squeeze. Duke merely rolled her eyes and followed Chandler as she strode into the home, all eyes suddenly turning to look at the four girls.

 

“Now the party finally started!” Kurt yelled out as he swooped McNamara who responded with intoxicated giggles. God, how many drinks did McNamara and Duke have before they got here? Chandler smirked and looked down at the guests with dominance as she walked over to wherever they held alcohol, making sure her hips swayed. Veronica could only look around sheepishly and she took a deep breath, no sign of pink was seen.

 

Martha had listened to her words.

 

Veronica exhaled and leaned herself against the wall that vibrated as the music boomed inside the building. Many teenagers were dancing wildly to the music or pressed up against someone, the smell of sweat and horniness evident. The aura had a peculiar vibe that Veronica clearly hadn’t experienced before. The seventeen year old then remembered what she had told herself;

 

 

  * __You’ll also be going to Ram Sweeney’s homecoming party with the Heathers. I don’t regret going._ ** _Have fun._**_



 

 

She chewed on her bottom lip as she debated mentally, her eyes frantically looking around the humble abode. The Heathers had went off somewhere and she sucked in a breath, putting on the most playful smile she could muster as her index finger lightly tapped on a male’s shoulder. “Where’s the alcohol?”

  


_“I don’t regret going,” my ass. Veronica groaned as she rested her head against the mahogany wood of her desk that was situated against the wall in her room. She owned a small apartment that she had gotten once she moved out of her parent’s household. The residence seemed to remind her of those awful times, especially_ him. _Veronica could never look at that goddamn closet the same. She couldn’t understand why she wrote that sentence on the paper. She absolutely regretted going to that party. It was where she had completely humiliated herself. It was the start of chaos that killed the dinosaurs. Veronica sharply inhaled as the phrase came to her head and she looked over to her diary. She had spent her time writing the letters to herself and barely wrote in the leather covered book. It was worn down now after all those years. After a decade, Veronica still had a good amount of pages left in the book. It killed her whenever she flipped through the book and words seemed to stick out to her, taunting her and laughing in her face._

 

 _Heather, Kurt, and Ram barely showed up to torment her. It was calming and relaxing yet she felt restless as the company of the three ghosts had become accustomed to her. Heather casually popped up beside her on days, throwing comments such as, “That outfit is horrible. I will not allow you to go out wearing that. It’s horrible.” Her dark irises usually spotted the two jocks messing around in public but she knew her eyes were the only ones to observe them for they were her conscious playing with her. Never had she seen_ his _ghost though. Was it because he didn’t feel the need to torture and play around with her? How considerate of him, she spat to herself in the silence of dark nights._

 

 _Veronica convinced herself that she probably wrote that to not bring much worry to her seventeen year old self. She’d possibly put high amounts of pressure on the girl considering the events that had happened to herself. Veronica wanted to erase all the bullshit that happened. Gone, donezo, not there, at least not there for her seventeen year old self. Veronica wasn’t stupid, no not at all. She_ knew _that even if she could make seventeen year old self not go down the path she took, things wouldn’t suddenly change. Veronica knew that Jason Dean wouldn’t suddenly burst through the door of her apartment exclaiming, “I’m home, darling!” with that stupid smirk that always seemed to be on his lips. She knew that Heather Chandler wouldn’t suddenly call her up and complain about how stupid or horribly dressed some girls were. The least she could do was not let herself experience the shittyness again. Maybe it would help her sleep at night if she knew a version of herself somewhere had what she always longed for deep down._

  
  


Veronica was small. Hell, the girl was only five foot three. It added on to the fact that she could barely hold her liquor. She was convinced that she downed five shots in a matter of 7 minutes. The room seemed to spin as she jumped up and down along with fellow classmates, laughing and dancing as if the world weren’t watching her. She yelled the words “Big Fun!” as they went wild with the music, a glass of alcohol in her hand swishing around dangerously. An arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and she looked up, tossing her head back with a giggle to meet dark eyes that stared back at her with a glint of lust. Intoxicated and barely knowing what the hell she was doing, she took no mind of the arms wrapped around her waist. However, she did notice the hand that began to creep up her thighs and was dangerously closing in on her inner thighs. Her body seemed to go into autopilot mode as she realized what was happening. Veronica chewed on the inside of her cheek, Heather told her that one of the aspects of going to a party was getting absolutely drunk and fucked. The brunette tried going along with it, really she tried, but a sick feeling began to wash over her as the man began to almost hump against her. That was when Veronica snapped.

 

She pulled herself away from his tight hold on her waist, a grunt emitting from the male. Veronica glared at him and swayed on the balls of her feet, the harsh and sudden turn made her feel dizzy. The room seemed to spin yet nobody turned an eye. Teenagers were pushed against the mall making out or either jumping around to the latest hits blasting from the stereo. “What the fuck?” The man hissed out as he looked down at Veronica, an expression of irritation evident on his face. His arm came out to grab her arm in hoping of her body being pressed against his again but Veronica still had her consciousness while drunk.

 

She growled as her arm shot back quickly before he could catch her wrist. “No thanks, I’m leaving,” Veronica huffed out as she placed her glass of alcohol on a table? Chair? Person? She didn’t know. All she was set on doing was getting out of the house and weaving herself out from the crowd. Veronica pushed through sweaty bodies which received groans of annoyance and curse words. The seventeen year old felt a mix of emotions that she did not welcome with open arms. For one, she felt used. Was this how she was seen now? Some toy to use and to fuck whenever possible? Veronica made her way to the front door but was stopped by Heather Chandler, a smugness to her facial features as she blocked Veronica front exiting.

 

“Leaving so soon, Ronnie?” She cooed and Veronica’s glare intensified, anger seeping into her veins. The mythic bitch couldn’t give her a break, could she?

 

“Yeah, not my type of Friday night. Sorry,” she said under her breath and pushed Heather, earning herself a shriek and sharp glare from the deep green eyes.

  
“What? Too scared to lose your v-card, Veronica? I’m sure you would’ve loved it!” A cackle escaped Chandler’s stained red lips and she pressed a hand to her chest, covered by the red fabric she wore almost every day. “Little Veronica doesn’t want to get fucked, I see.” She sneered and Veronica’s eyes stung with embarrassment. Nevertheless, she bit on her bottom lip to keep the waterworks at bay.

 

She didn’t understand. The letter said nothing about this happening. Veronica _knew_ that she’d include something like this in a letter to herself as a warning. She couldn’t help but feel almost betrayed by her own self. It then hit her, the timeline could be changing. Veronica had done what the letter asked her to do, it was possible that things were changing. Things wouldn’t go exactly like they were stated in the letter. Veronica shut her eyes tight and opened up the door, slamming it shut as she walked down the stairs, letting the muffled sounds of the music become more incoherent as she walked along the paved sidewalk. Thinking about this made her head hurt.

 

Why not do something to keep her mind off of it?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dead girl walking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it's been a while! i tried updating as soon as i could but it was a tad bit difficult to write this chapter despite it's length. i've never really exactly written smut before however it is on a less graphic scale in this chapter. i hope you enjoy and forgive me if some mistakes are spotted, i finished up this chapter late at night lmao

Alcohol truly did many wonders. Veronica never usually consumed much of the bitter substance whenever she had the chance, she knew the consequences and effects the person would face. Clearly she had not been thinking about that earlier.

 

The mindset Veronica had during the party was simply to be part of the “cool kids”, people would say. It was true, she thought maybe– just maybe she could be seen as a real Heather. Veronica groaned as the thoughts about being shunned at school on Monday caved into her head. Her hand came out to steady herself against a tree beside the pavement; Veronica Sawyer honestly had no idea where she was going. The only light source that shed some guidance for the teenager was the dull light of the moon as well as the street lights, barely on and flickering every few minutes. However, as she pushed herself off of the rough bark of the tree and began walking, a new source light source was found.

 

The dim and yellow tinted lighting came from a lit room, the window exposing the light to the dark streets. Veronica squinted her eyes to rest on the window’s frame, a silhouette clearly seen. To Veronica, the frame of the individual seemed peculiarly familiar yet finally the figure shifted and Veronica’s irises widened. Christ, she had only about thirty hours to live until she’d have to show herself to the demon queen and beg for an apology or she was dead meat on Monday.

 

“Gotta make it last.”

 

* * *

  
  
  


_ Sometimes, Veronica remembered that exact night. She could remember the feel of his skin against hers, the waves of pleasure that washed over her in that bed, the small tension of awkwardness once they woke up, the soft and gentle kiss her gave her when he cracked a smile, “For back up,” he had said. Veronica would squeeze her eyes shut until those moments erased themselves from her brain which was unlikely to happen. They never went away. That night was one she did not regret. It was one of the reasons why she had been so subtle about that night in the letter to her past self. Veronica knew that her past self would probably freak over the fact she’d bone with trench coat kid. It was best not to mention too much to keep things… natural. _

 

_ She regretted the events that happened the day after. God, why couldn’t she have just looked down at the substance in the mug she held in her hands so confidently? She was enthusiastic minutes before the poor consequence and laughter bubbled in her stomach, Veronica had been  _ excited  _ to pull a meek prank on her best friend yet worst enemy. Veronica growled, her grip on the mechanical pencil tightened. She questioned why J.D. hadn’t told her she grabbed the wrong cup. She then remembered how he had called out her name when she picked up the ceramic mug. _

 

_ “Veronica–”, he had called out and his breath hitched when she turned around, gleaming brightly and her face flushed due to the kiss they shared right before she set her fate. “Yeah?”, was her response that morning. _

 

_ “Nothing,” then he smirked that stupid smirk that made her swoon every fucking time. That was when all hell had broke loose as she watched Heather fall in her arms, choking obnoxiously on the drano J.D. had poured into the white, porcelain mug. Veronica curled into herself and wrapped her arms around herself tighter in bed those nights she reminisced about those days in senior year. Or what Veronica liked to call, ‘Worst Fucking Year Of Her Life’. _

 

* * *

  
  
  


Climbing fences and into windows was not something Veronica Sawyer will ever put on her resume to apply for a job. Why? She sucked ass at it. Climbing the fence that lead to Jason Dean’s window was a task that made Veronica groan and curse to herself intoxicatedly. Her knees were scraped slightly but not much to be a serious injury, she was so sure that the fence would possibly collapse. That was not how she wanted to spend her last hours of life. Once the brunette finally made it on the roofing of the home she was clearly invading, she fidgeted with the plastic lock near the window’s frame. The male had gotten into bed now, simply laying on his side that wasn’t facing the window, nice.

 

Veronica couldn’t help but wonder if this was considered a crime, she was meekly paying a visit, drunk, to one of her acquaintances, right? “Aha,” she huffed out as pride filled her up, a smirk making its way to her lips. Her arms pushed up the glass window effortlessly and she stepped inside the room, her eyes scanning the walls in the dark to find out that the room was mostly bare. No pictures hung the walls, no paintings, not much decoration really. It was merely a bed with dark covers, a desk and book shelf pushed to the side of the room as well. As she closed the window, the figure in bed shot up and rested himself on his elbows.

 

“Veronica— what are you doing in my room?” He asked with an expression of shock on his freckled face. Veronica hastily stuck her index finger out, a harsh shushing sound falling from her lips.

 

“Sorry for the intrusion, I just— shit happened and I want to ride you until you break,” she said in a rush and J.D.’s eyebrows instantly shot up, his mouth forming into the shape of an ‘o’. Before he could protest or agree, Veronica spoke again. “When I say shit happened, I mean Heather. I swear to god if you don’t take off those covers and underwear right now I will go crazy.” She took a few steps closer to his bed and he was now looking at her with a gleam in his dark eyes. Surprise? Terror? Lust? Veronica couldn’t possibly tell in her intoxicated state. Although, he pushed himself off of his elbows and sat up straight, listening to Veronica ramble on.

 

“It’s just you and me tonight,” Veronica stammered and ran a hand through her mocha curls. J.D.’s lip tugged at the corners to form a smirk, his body shifting itself closer to where Veronica was standing and he sat on the edge of the bed. His hand came to rest on her pale thigh moving slowly in circles against the skin, it made her heart pound inside her chest. “Get on all fours,” it was her turn to smirk as she pushed his chest, the male falling onto his back with his eyes wide with surprise. Nevertheless, he complied and got on his knees in front of her on the bed, Veronica realizing he had fallen asleep in his casual clothing. Now with him situated on his knees, J.D. seemed to be the same height Veronica despite her being on her feet. She locked eyes with him as her cheeks warmed up to a rosy tint.

 

“You sure about this, ‘Ronnie?” J.D. asked for reassurance at he looked at her with half-lidded eyes, his tongue slipping out from the corner of his mouth to lick his chapped lips.

 

“Mhm,” she hummed out as her arms wrapped around his neck, leaning into him and the smell of alcohol was clearly evident on her clothing and breath. J.D. was skeptical about taking advantage of Veronica while she was drunk but he really had no choice until she moved her face closer, their noses merely centimeters away. 

 

“It’s alright, I’m on the pill. And pissed. Oh yeah, and really fucking hot,” an intoxicated giggle escaped her throat. “Let’s make things beautiful like you, ya know?”

 

J.D. swallowed and his eyes stared into Veronica’s own dark chocolate like irises, they were filled with hunger and want, it was clear. When he spoke, his voice was raspy with surprise and timidness, “That works for me.” A yelp was all that left his lips after that for Veronica had grabbed his face, planting her lips against his roughly. J.D.’s arms wrapped around her waist as they nearly devoured each other, their breath hot against each other’s lips and his tongue slyly slipping into Veronica’s own mouth. Their tongue fought for dominance until Veronica pulled away, her hands coming down to the hem of J.D.’s light gray shirt. He quickly placed his hands over Veronica’s and hungrily aided her in taking the article of clothing off. Once J.D.’s skin was finally exposed, the brunette roughly shoved the man onto his back, a smirk making its way onto J.D.’s lips. It was quickly covered by Veronica’s own lips as she straddled his hips. Her lips teased his fiery hot skin, his chest was lightly splattered with the freckles that adorned his cheeks and nose. It was as if somebody had taken a paintbrush and lightly flicked the bristles of the brush to let small dots of paint to splatter onto the canvas. It was a beautiful effect on J.D.’s skin. Low groans vibrated in his throat as Veronica’s lips pleasured him.

 

She quickly shot up, her arms shooting up in the air to clearly magnify the waves of lust she felt. J.D. could only grin as he propped himself on his elbows to get a good look of the disheveled girl who climbed through his window in the wee hours of the night. It was a strange feeling and very foreign to J.D., he had never felt this way and if he had, he hadn’t in a long time. He didn’t believe in anything much before Veronica Sawyer had made her way into his room and now on top of him, the gleam of dominance in her eyes that reminded him so much of the chocolate his mother would buy when she was alive. It was breathtaking. 

 

His eyes hungrily took all of  _ her _ in but his heart swelled as Veronica shifted slightly to allow J.D. to enter her. A guttural moan was caught in his throat as she slammed herself down onto him, a look of pleasure seeping onto her porcelain face as well as uncomfortableness.

 

_ She’s a virgin.  _ He studied in his state of astonishment. It was when Veronica began to move that J.D. came to his senses of how beautiful this moment was. He knew that it wouldn’t exactly be the best thing to say during intercourse, but this rush of emotion was magnificent to him. J.D. hadn’t believed in anything after his mother’s death. He was simply the loner kid, known for his dark trench coat and dubious gazes to those around him. It wasn’t until  _ she  _ popped into his life. Veronica Sawyer.  _ She was his God. No, this feeling they shared was the Lord himself.  _ She could possibly be his salvation but if anyone dared to hurt  _ her _ , he’d do anything. As her moans filled the room and the squeaks of his weak bed frame, a peculiar feeling filled his whole body down to his very toes. 

 

He quickly moved along with her; his hips thrusted up to meet hers and the look on Veronica’s face was his reward. No, she being here was his reward. J.D. didn’t want this moment to end. He wanted to have her as close as she could possibly be against his body forever. She was his drug and oh god, was he addicted. Veronica’s moans turned into yells of pleasure as she threw her head back, commanding J.D. to pull her choppy locks. He obliged with a smirk, sweat forming on his brow as he pulled her hair back. The groan that fell from her lips made goosebumps dot his lightly tanned skin. J.D.’s thrust became more erratic as they both neared the end of their highs.

 

“Yeah— yeah!” Veronica nearly screamed out and J.D. prayed that his father wasn’t home or hadn’t arrived during their passionate kissing. He probably screamed himself in pleasure but he couldn’t tell, Veronica was all he could see and hear in this very moment. Sweat trickled down her pale skin as she moved up and down, her own motions becoming unstable and rough but nonetheless, waves of pleasure rolled over the couple. It was soon that J.D. and Veronica finally hit their climax, his eyes closing as she released himself into her. Veronica instantly got off of him to lay beside him. J.D.’s arm instantly wrapped around her as if he were her protection from the world that had hurt her. Finally coming down from his high, anger seared in his veins as he realized that Veronica had came crawling through his window because somebody hurt her. From what he had heard, Heather Chandler had brought pain to Veronica.

 

He looked over to the brunette in his arms, sweat sticking to their bodies and the stench of sex hung in the air. J.D. hadn’t noticed that a hard glare and scowl was planted on his face until his eyes caught ahold of Veronica’s dimly lit face. Her eyes were closed and her dark eyelashes brushed against soft flesh of her cheeks. He couldn’t help but wonder how the seventeen year old had found his address. Was it merely  a coincidence she had spotted him through the glass of his window or was it her intentions to come and visit him? J.D. couldn’t care less as long as he held her here in this moment. Veronica cuddled against his side, soft whimpers muffled against his bare skin and she clung to him. He stifled his laughs, not wanting to wake her.

 

“I will never let anybody hurt you, Veronica,” he muttered into her hair that smelled lightly of coconuts and he closed his own eyes.

 

It was one of the first nights where J.D. slept soundly.

 

After all, their love was God.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> j.d. and veronica come face to face with the hung over demon queen. well, more like face to face to floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey it's been a while!! i had lost muse to write and then last night i decided that to help with my writer's block, i could make a chart of how the story goes along. that really sparked up my ideas. now i hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you so much for the feedback i've been getting! it's really helpful and helps my confidence and inspiration!

When Veronica woke up, she nearly experienced a heart attack as the walls that her eyes set on were most definitely not painted the same blue her own walls were at home. She sat up to reveal her pure and unclothed torso. Veronica stifled a shriek as she thought back on the events of the night before. A red tint warmed her cheeks and she turned her head slightly, letting her locks fall in dark curls over her shoulder. Her irises rested on the familiar features of Jason Dean and her lips curled to form a soft smile. Veronica watched as his chest heaved up and down whilst he slept soundly, the once defensive and smug expression was now at ease, his lips parted to allow soft breaths pass through.

 

He was beautiful.

 

It was as if J.D. could sense Veronica’s gaze. An eye-lid cracked open to reveal one of his dark and luminous hues that could turn into a cold glare in a second. The corner of his mouth tugged to a smirk as a guttural groan escaped his throat. Now, both of his eyes were staring up at Veronica with a look of amazement. He looked at her as if she was his new found treasure.

 

“G’morning,” J.D. said softly and Veronica’s smile couldn’t help but widen into a grin that let her face shine brightly.

 

“Last night…”, Veronica said after an intake of breath and J.D.’s expression turned into one of panic. Did she regret it? Was it a drunken mistake?, “was incredible.” She finished.

 

J.D.’s charisma easily found it’s way back at Veronica’s words. “It was.”

 

Veronica laid her head back down against the pillow she had fallen unconscious on the night before. It was relaxing and a warm feeling overtook her as she laid in the silence between them. She looked back on their brief conversation at 7-11.

 

“You know when you said that those sugary artificially colored drinks helped you?”

 

He cocked an eyebrow at the random question but nodded, “You mean slurpees?”

 

Veronica brushed off the word suggestion with a wave of her hand. “What did you mean by that?” The brunette thought she had asked the wrong question when a sharp intake of breath was audible from the male beside her.

 

“I suppose I should tell you about it.” J.D. turned his head to face Veronica, his freckles standing out like specks of gold in the sunlight that was exposed by the blinds. “My mother died when I was young. She walked into a library minutes before my dad blew it up. You probably know my dad by the infamous commercials on TV. ‘ _ My names Big Bud Dean and if it’s in the way, I’ll make your day. _ ’” Veronica had been shocked at the newly learned information on his mother, she had instinctively reached for his hand. She tried to stifle her short giggles from J.D.’s impression of his father.

 

“My dad and I have never really had the best relationship. Due to his job, we move around a lot. I’m not surprised if I end up moving in six months. I’ve been to Boston, Las Vegas, Kansas, you name it. Now I’m here in Sherwood, Ohio. He usually comes home drunk or never even shows up in a few days. One time, he hadn’t showed up in a week. So I learned how to take care of myself and here I am. The pain numbs me from all of the pressure.” J.D. looked at her and chewed on his bottom lip, an expression of hopefulness set on his face. It was as if he were asking her to accept him despite these hardships.

 

Veronica’s hand came up to his cheek, her thumb caressed his cheek bone gently. J.D.’s eyes closed at the gesture and Veronica smiled at him solemnly. “I am sorry that you’ve had to experience all of this, J.D.”

 

Suddenly, the young woman bolted upright with her eyes blown wide. J.D. sat up just as quickly a few seconds after and looked her at her with concern, “What’s wrong?”

 

Veronica threw the covers off of herself and hastily climbed out of the bed. “I need to go.”

 

“What? Why so soon?”

 

The brunette sighed and turned to J.D. as she zipped up her skirt. “I need to get to Heather’s house and apologize to her aerobicized ass.” J.D. raised an eyebrow and got out of bed himself.

 

“No you don’t.”

 

“Yes I do,” Veronica said with a groan. She was certain that if she didn’t give Chandler the satisfaction of victory, her life would be over. Veronica heard ruffling and assumed J.D. was getting his clothes back on.

 

“Well then let me come.” J.D. said as he pulled his gray shirt over his head, his hair adorably ruffled as he got it on.

 

“Really?” Veronica asked with a hint of amusement and surprise to her tone. J.D. nodded with a small smile as he walked towards her.

 

“Yeah— for back up.” He leaned down to press his lips against hers. Veronica’s arms came to wrap around his neck yet unfortunately she pulled away.

 

“Come on, let’s get to Heather’s.”

  
  


_ One of the difficulties that Veronica found with writing these letters is reflecting back on the horrific things that she had done. It was hard to write about the events that she pulled. It was hard to look back on how happy she had been with him. It also occurred to Veronica that these letters could possibly be used as evidence to throw against her. It was a burdensome decision to make. However, the whole point of this was to let her past self live freely and relax. She didn’t care if changing the past didn’t affect her future. Veronica had done many errs, it was the least she could do. _

 

_ The young woman didn’t realize the warm tears that were trailing down her porcelain skin as she wrote on the blank pages. It wasn’t until a tear had dropped onto the paper, leaving a mark that distorted the ink it had come into contact with that she noticed she was crying. Veronica sighed and wiped her cheek with the back of her hand, urging on to keep writing. Why should she cry? Heather Chandler is— was a mythic bitch. Veronica could only imagine how Heather would’ve been if she lived. Veronica’s fist slammed down on the table and she grit her teeth, closing her eyes tight so that no ounce of light could seep into her vision. _

 

_ “They still had time to grow.” _

  
  


“Heather?” Veronica called out into the house, she and J.D. had managed to slip in through the back door. It was a tradition for Veronica to come through the back unwillingly to help Heather with her hangovers. It would’ve been hell if she hadn’t listened to the demon queen countless times. She sighed when there was no response and her hands came up to form a cup near her mouth. “Heather!”

 

“What do you want?” The shrill shriek echoed throughout the home and Veronica assumed that Heather was the only resident in the house. She shook her head and glanced over at J.D. who had given her a meek shrug.

 

“We’re— I’m here to apologize!”

 

“Fix me a prairie oyster and I’ll think about it!” Veronica’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration but she knew that it would be hear death bed socially and legitimately. She was taken out of her panic by a comforting hand on her shoulder. Veronica turned and looked up at J.D. who had placed his palm against the curve of her shoulder, he looked down at her with an expression of comfort. However, the straight line of his mouth told Veronica that he was aggravated with Heather’s attitude.

 

“We should get working on that prairie oyster, huh?” He said and pushed himself away from her to begin working on the concoction that would help with Heather’s hangover and bitchiness— hopefully. Veronica watched as J.D. pulled out the necessary ingredients and she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

 

“You know your hangover treatments.”

 

“Yeah well, I had to become an expert for my dad.” Veronica looked at him with an expression of solemn but he brushed it off. She wrapped her arms around him from behind and felt J.D. melt into the embrace. The moment was cut off by a groan that somehow mixed with a shriek.

 

“Prairie oyster, chop chop!” Veronica’s eyes rolled at Heather’s demands and cleared her throat as she stepped away from J.D., she took a mug from the dish rack and began to prepare the drink. J.D.’s face held clear look of annoyance and he leaned against the counter. Nearly everything except the countertops and appliances held the bright color that Heather adorned everyday.

 

It made his eyes hurt.

 

Suddenly, J.D.’s eyes lit up as an idea crossed his mind. He ducked down to open up the cabinet beneath the sink and grinned at the sight of a bright blue liquid. J.D. scooped up the plastic bottle and gave Veronica a wicked smile. “How about we give her big blue?”

 

Veronica had looked up to find J.D. holding a bottle of Drano, she rolled her eyes and shook her head. “We can’t give her that, she’ll die!”

 

J.D. shrugged. “My point exactly.” Veronica frowned and stopped her work with the horrible drink at her hands. She wondered how people were able to drink something like that. Veronica watched as he poured the drain cleaner into a matching mug.

 

“No, J.D.,” she muttered out. J.D. saw the expression set on her porcelain features and instantly put the mug down on the counter.

 

“Hey, hey I’m sorry. I was only kidding about it.” His hand came up to stroke her hair softly and she let herself come loose into his arms. Veronica heard a soft scrunch as J.D. embraced her. Her hues widened at the remembrance of the letter.

 

“I’ll be back, I gotta use the restroom.” She pulled herself away from J.D. and rushed over to the bathroom. It was best if they didn’t keep Heather waiting. Veronica pulled out the crumpled piece of paper from her pocket and cursed mentally, she hadn’t read today’s letter. Veronica made a promise to read the letter set for everyday in case something that made her life turn around happened that day. Her eyes skimmed over the words. Words such as “drano”, “Heather”, “J.D.”, and “mug” stood out to her. But the word that Veronica focused on was  _ died. _ And there it was, the sentence that made her heart race in panic.

 

**_Please double check the mug you grab to give Heather. She may be a bitch but promise me, the guilt that you feel for not feeling guilty of murder will kill you._ **

 

A shriek nearly fell from her lips as a knock rang out through the bathroom. “Ronnie, you alright in there?” J.D.’s voice was muffled through the wooden door and Veronica cleared her throat.

 

“Uhm yeah— yeah I’m fine.” She placed her hand on the doorknob and set a smile on her face before opening up the door. J.D.’s expression was one of concern yet at the sight of Veronica’s face, he relaxed.

 

“Let’s not keep Heather waiting.” They walked back to the kitchen and Veronica was so focused on her thoughts that clouded her mind, she didn’t notice that her hand had gotten ahold of the wrong mug.

 

“Veronica—” J.D. started.

 

“Yeah?” She asked softly and looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, her lips dancing to form a smile. J.D. was about to reply right as Veronica remembered the words in the letter that she had sent herself. The seventeen year old looked down at the contents in the mug. “Oh! Wrong drink,” her voice quivered and she laughed awkwardly. J.D. nodded and watched as Veronica dumped the drano into the sink, grabbing the right mug with the prairie oyster. She turned to J.D. with a reassuring beam, he nodded and they climbed up the steps that lead to the mythic bitch’s room.

 

“Heather?” Veronica called out again in a low tone. The couple waited a few seconds and looked at each other, clearly confused as there was no response to the calling. Normally, Heather would’ve scolded them with shrieks and complaints of how long they took or how she could have gotten a mani-pedi and her hair done by the time they showed up with the hangover treatment. J.D. pushed open the door to Heather’s room and Veronica dropped the mug, it crashed to the floor with a loud sound of glass shattering.

 

Heather laid on the floor, face down near her bed. A small pool of blood lay next to her head.

 

“Heather!” Veronica yelled out and dashed over to her best friend’s body. J.D. was right behind her and he stood above Heather’s body. Veronica rolled over the blonde and gasped at the wound on Heather’s head.

 

“She must have gotten that when she collapsed,” J.D. theorized and he delicately brushed the strays of gold hair, tinted red from Heather’s blood. It was a careful gesture despite his aggravation towards Chandler.

 

Veronica bent her head down to below Heather’s left breast to check for a pulse. To her horror, there was nothing.

  
Heather Chandler was dead. But not because of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shocker right??? go ahead and comment some theories of what you think happened to heather ;))


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